


-Distemperature-

by zenxoxo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-10 14:10:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19906990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenxoxo/pseuds/zenxoxo
Summary: Aziraphale’s contracted an illness from humans and is completely clueless. Naturally, protective Crowley comes to the rescue. There’s also sushi involved. Who knew Crowley was a cook?





	1. Torridity

**Author's Note:**

> wow look at me writing another fic haha,,,!!! i love these two sm.... !!! enjoy!~

A sombre storm wreaked its havoc over London that evening. Rain glued itself to the windows of that measly bookshop in Soho. It created a devoid ambiance around the streets, not as many people taking the option up to walk in the downpour. Multiple black and blue umbrellas still scattered like ants in the streets, however, as London was a very engaged destination. 

Aziraphale felt rather gruelling this day, too. His face would feel that of Hellfire and his body trembled with a metallic agony that shot through his veins. He still worked, however, though every couple of minutes a dry cough would rupture from his chest. Quite a number of customers pleaded their concerns to the angel, yet he responded with a simple and polite “ _I’m quite alright._ ”  He wasn’t a fellow to fib, absolutely not - after all, this would pass. He was an angel. Aziraphale thought it as odd that one like him could get frightfully ill like a human - perhaps he had been up here too long, on Earth and contracted something unimaginable. 

It was just a fever. Aziraphale, if anyone knew him well enough, was aware he was prone to overreacting. Even about the most simplest of situations. Crowley had tipped over a planter and gotten a cut on his finger once. The angel had such a freak over it that drove the redhead bonkers. Inquiring over and over if Crowley was okay, or if his wound had reopened, or if that he should have miracled it more. Quite seriously. 

The angel sat himself down at his desk, exhaling a hefty sigh which made his untreated throat tickle and another rapid coughing fit wracked his body. This was unbearable. Aziraphale’s weakly paled eyes drifted towards the phone, pondering if this was worth calling Crowley over. It definitely is. After dialing the number, a few rings passed and it went to voicemail. 

_Hi, this is Anthony Crowley. You know what to do - do it with style._ The demon had actually been lounging in his king-like chair the entire time, chewing nonchalantly on a toothpick, both legs propped up on his desk. He was currently enthralled watching the rain pour down the windows across from him. The clear water trickling so freely made the demon feel euphoric in a way. Bizarre, for an individual like Crowley, to experience anything other than Hellish desires and hatred. Perhaps due to the sequence of Armageddon, maybe he was an aardvark. 

With his head rested against the side of the throne, peacefully basking in the patter the storm, Crowley in particular felt nothing at that moment, not having paid any mind to the voicemail - that is, until Aziraphale’s voice came on the line. He sat up quickly and waited to pick up the phone, curious as to what the angel had contacted him for. 

Aziraphale, on the other end, spoke in a hoarse fashion seemingly frailer than before he’d called. “Crowley—“ his voice cut off briefly to cough— “I don’t know if you’re around, but I was hoping you would be able to.. ahem, - stop for a bit at the shop. I’m feeling rather unwell—“ This was when Crowley answered the phone, holding it between his jawline and shoulder while twiddling the cord between two fingers. 

“Unwell, you say - hmm?” Crowley luxuriated into the spine of the throne, his legs back in their untethered form on the desk. “You’re an angel, Aziraphale. What could possibly make you feel unwell?” A typical, cynical response from the demon. Aziraphale had absorbed this type of treatment from him, but he really just didn’t want to be by his lonesome. 

“ _Yes,_ Crowley— _unwell.”_ Lord, he was sick of hearing that word already. “I think I may have caught an ailment from the humans, or it’s - it’s this Hellish storm outside. Could you just _please_ come to the bookshop?” The demon remained reticent on the line before agreeing. Breathing a sigh of solace, Aziraphale half collapsed into his creaky chair of exhaustion. 

While Crowley enjoyed the stunning spectacle of rain on the inside, that didn’t mean he enjoyed travelling in it. It felt messy and fogged up his shades, his boots had gotten filled to the brim—  _I’m starting to sound like Aziraphale_.  The demon rolled his eyes and kicked the thought from his mind. 

Once stepping up to the bookshop doors and snapping his fingers to make way for himself, Crowley stepped in and flung the droplets of precipitation onto the floor, gnarling in irritation. “Aziraphale, you called me over, and now I’m here — but I don’t see you. This had better not be a joke.” He warned before spotting the angel at his desk, face planted into the wood. “Wow, I never thought I’d see you look so terrible.” 

The angel groaned in response, sounding very much exaggerated. He managed to lift his head and glance at the taller male who was standing a few inches away, eyeing him down in curiosity. There was a cough itching itself to erupt out of Aziraphale’s chest but he chose to swallow it down instead. “Crowley,  _please—_ I told you I feel—“ 

“Yeah, yeah. Unwell. I get it.” The demon reached out a hand to place it on Aziraphale’s forehead, whispering a soft sizzling sound through his teeth. “You feel hotter than the damned Death Valley. Remember our trip there? You nearly convinced yourself I took us to Hell.” Aziraphale, as ill as he felt, still managed to shoot Crowley a soft glare. “Your luck is about to be turned around though, angel, for I am a connoisseur in human illness.” 

Of course he had to make a show out of this. Aziraphale swore at times he had no inkling what was truly inside of Crowley’s head, whether it be a brain or a literal apple that made him unhinged. At this point, it could honestly be either one and his demeanor would remain unchanged. This was when Crowley suggested that he take the angel back to his flat, as the bookshop wasn’t a “proper” place (purely in his words) to treat a sickness. The angel had no choice but to agree, not just because his energy was at its lowest point, but also because before he could agree they were already gone. 

Crowley’s flat was significantly different than Aziraphale’s home of choice. It was shadowy, crepuscular, and very modern. The angel could barely fathom how the redhead managed to keep up with technology as it was constantly inconsistent, whereas Aziraphale chose a less technological approach to most things, as they remained unchanged. It was simpler that way, he figured. 

Though they were both angel and demon, not ever requiring sleep, Crowley did have a bedroom that he did technically use from time to time. It was just as meticulously clean as every other room in his flat. The bed was definitely spacious enough for two people. There was nothing else but a nightstand and a lamp that was as bland as could be. 

“Lay down, angel.” Crowley instructed, indicating briefly to the bed. “I’ve got just the remedy, but I’ll need to go pick it up first.” He helped the angel beneath the covers and began heading for the door. “Oh, and don’t worry. It tastes terrible.” Crowley smirked and rounded the corner, only to peek around again. “Just kidding!” Repeating the same thing, once more — “Or am I?” 

“ _Crowley_.”  Aziraphale said sternly at the demon, who finally left the flat for good with a powerful laughter echoing in the chambers. 


	2. Perfervid

It had been about thirty minutes time before Crowley arrived back to the flat where Aziraphale had been waiting, still very feverish and frail. The demon had a smallish bottle in his hand, a type of medicine, he guessed. “Alright, I’ve got the goods.” Crowley sat at the edge of the bed, but still close enough to the angel that it made him fluster. 

“What exactly is it?” Aziraphale inquired, holding out to grab the bottle from Crowley’s hand. “..Crowley. This specifically says it’s for kids. I’m an  _angel_. Who’s over six thousand years old, mind you!” 

“Oh just  _drink_ it, would you? I know you trust me.” Aziraphale was about to respond but stopped himself — because Crowley was right. He did have a strong trust for the demon after the years they’d known each other. Finally giving in to temptation, he took a swig of the medicine, grimacing at the taste before calming down a few seconds after. 

“You were right, Crowley. That was  _terrible._ ” The redhead snickered and leaned forward, just briefly pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek. The angel’s skin felt hot against his lips, and he understood why. Crowley witnessed the other slightly relax after the display of affection. 

“See, wasn’t that bad now was it? Now you’ve just got to focus on getting better.” Crowley climbed up the bed and settled down next to Aziraphale, curving a single arm around him, resting his head onto the angel’s. They both sat in complete quiescence while listening to the never-ending rain pouring down onto the flat. 

“Crowley, dear, are you asleep?” The angel queried in a hush-hush voice, taking his hand within his own and holding it dear to his heart. 

“I rarely blink, angel. Let alone sleep.” Crowley responded in a monotone voice, but intertwined their fingers together into a woven fist of passion. Aziraphale felt embarrassed as he’d forgotten all about that. He squashed himself back into silence and actually managed to fall into a slumber himself - cause while they didn’t necessarily _need_ sleep, it didn’t mean they  couldn’t. It would cause a lot of time to pass anyway. 

No comprehensible amount of time whittled away while Aziraphale slept. Crowley spent a good amount, more than he’d admit, observing the paler male next to him. No matter what, the angel always appeared to be at peace. Whether it be due of his creation and alignment, or perhaps it was because of Crowley. The demon used his free hand to brush a few of Aziraphale’s curled locks away from his forehead and tested the temperature. It wasn’t exactly normal (whatever was normal for an angel, anyway—) but definitely more than it had been previously. Crowley exhaled lightly. The medicine was working for now. 

See, while Crowley was a demon and a wily creature of Earth and Hell, he did care a great amount about Aziraphale. Not just as a friend, but a lover and companion. He never truly experienced “happiness” as it wasn’t in his job description, until the angel was somehow, by some unseen force, pushed into his life. Now that they were both semi-free from their respective sides, they could be seen together without fretting about illegality. Crowley craned downward to peck Aziraphale on the cheek once again and he swore he saw just the faintest grin on the angel’s lips. 

It was a long while before Aziraphale slowly opened his eyes. There was a chill next to him, and the first thing he noticed was Crowley had left. The rain storm outside had not lessened - if only got stronger and louder. At least he was inside, and away from the rain. The last thing Aziraphale recalled was trying the medicine Crowley had brought him, which still lingered a mysterious, bitter taste. 

“Crowley, my dear, are you still here?” The angel peered out of the room, being greeted with nothing but a rainy atmosphere. He pursed his lips and left the bedroom, traversing throughout the flat out of curiosity and a dire need to figure out where the demon had wandered off to. It wasn’t until Aziraphale stuck his nose around the corner and found a familiar scent wafting from the kitchen. 

_Sushi_. 

There was Crowley too, preparing a set of five pieces onto a neat and elongated tray. Aziraphale was shocked at this display, but sushi was his absolute favorite food upon coming to Earth and living amongst the dwellers. It was too sweet of the demon to do this for him, but still, warmed Aziraphale’s heart to see the thoughtfulness. 

“Oh, angel. I didn’t know you were awake yet. Bugger - I wanted to surprise you.” Crowley stated, inclining his gaze at the tinier male. “I also wanted to throw it on you, but I didn’t think you would like that as much.” A playful grin stretched across the demon’s lips. The angel was more taken aback at this display than anything, but only got a satisfactory grin into play. 

“Matters not, I still adore sushi. Quite delectable, don’t you think?” Aziraphale plucked the rolled rice ball from the platter and dunked it into the soy before popping it into his mouth. He waited until swallowing before speaking again - naturally, he had great mannerisms for being an angel. “Did you make these by scratch?” 

“Ah - maybe. It’s definitely possible.” Crowley shrugged but there was a twinkle in his eye that made Aziraphale sure of what he’d done. Such an adoring demon Crowley could be, when he wanted to. “I’ve never had sushi, though. Only seen humans make it. You pick up a thing or two up here instead of Hell.” Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he almost choked. 

“Well you absolutely _must_ try one! Go on! You won’t be disappointed, I promise you.” The angel didn’t hesitate to pick up another and down that one as well, while waiting for Crowley to give the sushi a taste. “Oh, and don’t forget the soy sauce! That’s the best part.” 

“I’m not gonna forget the damn soy sauce, angel.” Crowley hissed under his breath while delicately taking the snack between two fingers, dunking it like the angel reminded him to, and chewed on it for hot minute. It was slightly sweet but a higher grade mix of salty. Crowley definitely didn’t think it was terrible. “Not bad, angel. You’ve got some good taste in you after all.” 

“Naturally, my dear. I’m known to all things good and pure.” Aziraphale flickered a proud gaze and smile to Crowley, which the demon returned, but in that demon-y way that he would. A clear yin and yang duo, these two were. Crowley felt relieved that Aziraphale seemed to have made a semi full recovery from the illness. Something nagged in the back of his mind though. 

“Angel, I’ve got a question for you.” 

“Yes, my dear? What is it?” Crowley flashed him a devious grin which made the angel just a strand nervous. 

“Did you fake this illness just as an excuse to see me?” Aziraphale’s face went a bright pink. 

“A-Absolutely not, Crowley! What in Heaven’s name makes you think I would ever lie?” Crowley lifted a brow in playful question before placing the now empty sushi tray in the sink with a soft clang. 

“Just an assumption, my angel. No need to get so worked up.” Aziraphale was still heavily unnerved by the sudden, inessential inquiry. Crowley whistled and walked past him without ever addressing the situation further, opening the door to his flat with a slight pout at the storm still raging outside. 

“Now you just _wait_ a damned minute, Crowley! You can’t just assume that without—“ Aziraphale stomped after the demon to the doorway before being half swept off his feet and met with a fervent kiss on the mouth. Rain still poured around them in a cold flurry while the two remained tightly enclasped for a good minute. 

After the lock broke, Crowley had a loving yet devious and smooth skim coat both eyes. The angel continued to retain his fasten on him, not so much surprised, just overall ecstatic. 

“Now _that’s_ how you trick an angel.” The demon jested before kissing Aziraphale again, the duo having not minded once about getting sodden in the rain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh  
> 💖💘💝 oh fuck 💗  
> 💓 💖💕💞  
> 💞 💘💖💝  
> fuck💖  
> 💕💖 💘 sorry guys 💘💖  
> 💕 💞💝 i’m dropping my love💗for aziraphale and crowley💕💖💞  
> 💝💗💞 💘  
> 💘💖 all over the 💘💞💞  
> 💕💖 💕💞💖💘  
> 💘place 💖💕  
> 💘💗 💞💝  
> 💝💕sorry 💓


End file.
